


Midnight Snack

by mmmdraco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 02:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco heads to the Hogwarts kitchen for a midnight snack, and discovers he isn't the first to have the idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: We don't own the characters, we mean no harm, we have no money... Stuff like that. Yeah.

It was a cool night in the Slytherin dormitories, especially so in the 5th year's quarters. Crabbe and Goyle had been practicing freezing charms and they hadn't quite worn off as neither really wanted their "Finite Incantum" to work as they'd finally gotten it correct after two hours of constant trial, mostly error.

Draco Malfoy, his cold demeanor no match for the inside of the room, sat up in his bed, his teeth chattering. "Fucking dimwits. Couldn't practice your bloody charms in the common room where there's at least a fireplace to keep things warm? Both of the fools cast the stupid spell and none of the warming charms are working because of it! Hell in my mother's sewing basket, I'm going to go sleep on the couch!"

Stalking from the room with his plush blanket around his shoulders like a luxurious cloak and his wand in one ice-cold hand, having pushed through the velvet curtains he'd drawn earlier to try to maintain some heat in his hibernation chamber, Draco locked the door behind him so that his lackeys would have to stay in the cold they'd created. With any luck, by morning one of them would be able to successfully complete the "Alohomora" spell. He seethed, his teeth still chattering, and stole down the stairs to the common room.

He'd been perfectly ready to assail himself to the sofa for even half a dozen winks instead of the usual forty, but it was already occupied. Marcus Flint was sprawled out in a lurching heap. He smelled of rancid butterbeer, and that was from a few metres away. A fire was blazing in the fireplace, and Flint seemed to have wet himself or spilled something on his lap. Regardless, Draco preferred not to find out. He walked to the opposite side of the common room and tried to get comfortable on the couch that had been shoved there. He could still faintly smell Flint and a broken spring was poking him in the shoulder. It was still cold that far away from the fire anyway.

"Stupid Flint and his stupid habits. Needs to learn how to Apparate. Maybe I'll be lucky and he'll splinch himself for good." He shivered. "It's cold! Maybe if I just had something warm to drink..." He stood and walked toward the portait hole, his mouth a grim and determined line, blanket still around his shoulders. "I'll just go get a midnight snack."

So, up the stairs from the Slytherin dungeons Draco ascended, and it was barely any warmer up on the first floor. The air seemed to cut right through his nightshirt -- he should have gotten his robe, but it had been too cold to think so rationally. He was glad he'd retained enough mind to have adorned his soft leather slippers. He hugged himself as he looked around the corner for Filch. He wasn't like Potter. He didn't have his own Invisibility Cloak, which wasn't fair... his father wouldn't get him one until he managed to up his grades past that apple-polishing Granger girl, and without some special brand of magic, that was impossible.

The hall remained still and silent, so Draco crept forward with natural grace and ease, through the corridors, until he came to the massive painting the kitchens were tucked behind.

"How did Zabini say to do it?" he wondered out loud. Something about a pear? Draco reached forward and brushed slim white fingers against the laquered green paint -- and the pear giggled, wiggled, and the painting swung open a few inches for him. Smiling self-indulgently, Draco slipped through the opening into the warm kitchens.

Several house elves that were all standing together in a big group squealed in delight and began to scurry around. Draco felt himself stiffen. There, in the very middle of that throng of house elves, sat Seamus Finnigan, perched in deeply midnight-blue cotton pajamas upon a stool. There was a plate of cookies and a steaming mug in front of him, and Seamus blinked at him with a cookie half stuffed in his mouth. The Gryffindor was even wearing ridiculous, yet worn and loved-looking bunny slippers.

Draco summoned a scowl.

"Oh, for the love of... they're letting *anybody* in these days, aren't they?"

"Sir!" squeaked a tiny female elf. "Sir, what is you requiring? Is Sir wanting hot chocolate? Sir looks freezing!"

Draco looked down at the elf patronizingly. "Whatever gave you that idea? The fact that my teeth are chattering more than Gryffindor boy over there is prone to, or the fact that my lips are blue and my nose is red and my face altogether resembles the British flag *with* the flagpole?"

Seamus made a sound very similar to a snort and started to choke on one of the cookies. Draco only stared at him as he finally recovered and began to laugh at himself. "Well, I suppose you're not going to leave, are you, Gryff?"

"I have a name."

"Captain Obvious?"

The ginger-haired boy picked up a cookie with one deftly manuevered hand. He hadn't even looked and managed to grab it in a good grip in one try. He held it up in front of himself and waved it in Draco's direction. "You're such a prick. Sit down. You need some cocoa and some of these gingersnaps."

Trudging along, blanket falling off one shoulder, Draco situated himself on the stool that one of the house elves had brought forward for him. "I've never had these before."

Seamus looked up, a few crumbs falling from his lips. He chewed quickly and Draco could see the way his throat flexed as he swallowed. "They're good. Awful Muggle to most wizards, but I know they serve them at Durmstrang."

Draco, hearing that, leaned forward and took one off of the plate that Seamus had in front of him. He went to take a bite and heard the loud crunch before he felt it. "Ow. Do those Muggle teeth fixers love these things or what?" But, the flavor was good. Spicy and sweet.

Laughing, Seamus held up a cookie. "There's a way to fix that." He took the cookie and slid it under his lips so it was parallel to his teeth. His cheeks puffed out a bit as he breathed out through the cookie. When he removed it and took a bite, there was no loud crunch and *his* teeth didn't seem to be hurting.

Trying it for himself, Draco breathed out through the cookie, then back through it. The air tasted warm and it made him think he was warmer, even if it wasn't actually true. A few short puffs of breath later, he pulled the cookie back past his lips and took a small bite. This time, it was soft and chewy and the spice was even nicer. "Mmm... Thanks, Finnigan."

The boy raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. He chose, instead, to take a quick gulp from the mug in front of him. When he set it down, Draco glanced at him and burst out laughing before realizing himself and clearing his throat as he let the noise in the room fade to an almost silence. "You have cocoa on your lip." Seamus wiped at his lower lip and looked expectantly at Draco. "No, the top..." Seamus was again unsuccessful. "Oh, for crying out loud." He stood up and leaned across the table. One hand went to the side of Seamus' face and he wiped the bit of cocoa from the boy's mouth, but froze when he'd pulled his hand away only by half a dozen centimetres. "I..." He pulled his hands away quickly and sat down. "Sorry."

Seamus looked far more shocked by the apology than anything else.

A moment later, Draco looked down and focused intently on tying the corners of his bedspread together. He looked up only to ask, "Could I perhaps get a cup of that cocoa?" But, none of the house elves were in the kitchen at that moment, a fact which Draco found only mildly disturbing.

"Your hands are cold."

Draco looked to Seamus. "Pardon me? *What* did you say?"

Seamus cleared his throat. "I said your hands are cold. Give them here."

He automatically jerked his hands back; a conditioned response. Though, as his hands were already very close to his ribs, he merely ended up thumping himself. It was slightly painful, but he ignored that. "Why should I?"

The other boy sighed. "Come off it, Malfoy. I'm not going to hex your fingers off." He stood up and rounded the end of the counter which seperated him from Draco. As he walked toward him, Draco turned on his stool so that his back was to the counter and Seamus was directly in front of him. "Give me your hands." Draco leaned back a bit, still wary. "Malfoy!" He blinked.

Sighing, Seamus lifted the edges of the soft blanket that Draco wore like a superhero's cape. Draco's eyes flew open. Suddenly, Seamus had Draco's hands clasped in his own, slowly rubbing them. Seamus' hands were so warm that Draco could have suddenly sworn that the freezing charm had been practiced on him instead of his dorm room, and that Seamus was now practicing some bizarre form of wandless magic. But, after another few minutes of silence, he could feel his hands begin to come to a normal temperature.

With a smirk, Seamus patted Draco's hand and pulled away, sitting down on his stool again. Draco unconsciously followed his form so that he stayed facing the other boy. "Th..." He coughed. "Thank you." He'd muttered the words, but the slight shock that showed with the smile on Seamus' face was enough to tell him that the voiced sentiment had been heard.

Draco once again attempted to tie the ends of his blanket together. "I..." His brow furrowed. He now had a cup of steaming hot cocoa in front of him, heaped with whipped cream. A spoon was already buried beneath the whipped cream. He gave up talk for a moment. He pulled the spoon out of the mug and lifted a bit of the cream to his mouth. If touched his lips and he jolted momentarily. The spoon was scalding, and the soft cream cool. But, he overcame the temperature and plunged the spoon past his lips. He pulled it from between his lips a moment later with a smile. "Deliciously delicious." He faltered slightly in the presence of a Gryffindor. Then again, who of Hogwarts had ever heard him voice such opinions?

"Isn't it though?" Seamus seemed to have immersed himself in his own mug again.

The house elves still hadn't reappeared, though the fire seemed to be roaring anew. Draco frowned slightly. "Can house elves be invisible?"

Seamus seemed to pause to consider the question, his spoon midway between mug and mouth. "I've got no clue, actually. I didn't grow up with them. I'd have figured you'd know as you're the one who was probably fed by one as a tyke."

"I... I don't really remember. A lot of what I did as a child, I must be blocking out or something. I don't even remember half of the stories mum tells at parties. But, it's mum, so..." He trailed off, looking up at the other boy. "I..."

"So what?" Seamus was holding out his hand slightly.

"Right... um, I... Look, you're a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin. We can't just be telling each other all of our life secrets, can we?"

Seamus laughed heartily, going so far as to put a hand on his stomach as he shook in mirth. "Oh, honestly. There's no one here but us. We're sharing gingersnaps and hot chocolate. Besides, I consider myself a million times more trustworthy than the whole of Slytherin, head of house, founder of house, and portrait guardian included!"

Draco snorted lightly; a very bad move considering he'd been sipping at his hot cocoa. He took a moment to grab a napkin from the center of the table and wipe himself, and the table, clear of the warm liquid he'd spluttered out through various orifices. "You bloody Irish git!" He laughed. "You just had to sound so sure of yourself on that. I'm plenty trustworthy... as long as no one's offering me something I want. I have a price. But, I'll only name it for people who I think should be allowed to have the information."

"What kind of price tag would you put on yourself for me?"

"Hmm... probably the same price people put on themselves at those Muggle kissing booths."

The gulp that issued from Seamus was audible... incredibly audible. "Have... have you ever been to a Muggle kissing booth?"

Draco shrugged. "I've seen them before. They looked rather stupid. You have to pay money to get a kiss. What kind of loser needs to pay for one?"

"Maybe... maybe sometimes they think they couldn't get it on their own, so they offer money... They get the most beautiful people to stand inside and all of these people who think they aren't worthy come by and see that for a bit of money, they can get close to that beautiful thing... Kiss them..." Seamus paused to look into his mug of cocoa, his hands cupped around it. "You could work one of those, y'know. I'm sure you'd have lots of people pay your price."

A gingersnap later, Draco spoke. "Would any Gryffindors?"

"Most definitely." When he looked up, Draco could see the firm belief in Seamus' gaze that connected with his. 

Draco took a deep breath and a quick swig of his cocoa whose level was steadily decreasing. "Would... would...?" He gulped and looked up at Seamus, almost frightened.

"Would... what?"

Looking away, Draco muttered, "You..."

"Would *I*? Well... well... I suppose it would depend on whether you had chapped lips. You usually do after a Quidditch match." The room resonated with sound as Seamus slapped both of his hands over his mouth.

Draco nodded and looked into his cocoa, watching the scant remaining traces of whipped cream swirl around the edges of the mug. "You're right about that. It wouldn't be so bad, but I can never seem to get fully awake until the game starts, so I never remember to put balm on before I get off the ground. I usually remember about the time the first Bludger heads my way, or Potter. Either way, an annoyance at best. No offence, Gryff."

Seamus laughed. "None taken. But, let's not talk about Harry. Let's talk about... Well, I don't know. Let's talk about kissing."

"I thought we already had been, then we somehow got on the topic of Potter. Are you in love with him and just not telling me?" Draco picked up his spoon and pointed it in the general direction of the Gryffindor dormitories.

"Would it be so bad if I was? I could tell the world and the Prophet would write about me and I'd be famous, particularly if Harry spurned my love, and then I'd never have to work a bloody day in my life, I'd be married to some beautiful person who sympathized with the fact that Harry didn't love me, and people would give me free things, despite the fact that I'd already be rich. That'd be the life, wouldn't it?"

Draco nodded in solemn agreement. "Ah, yes. Harry Potter not loving you is definitely the kind of life to lead, isn't it? Though, would it really matter? He's too dense to know when someone likes him as it is."

A gingersnap between his lips, Seamus looked amusing, despite the look of understanding that passed across his features. He chewed a moment, then spoke. "Sounds like the voice of experience. Not that I can't really understand that. Luckily, that kind of bloke isn't my type in the least. I'm a gentleman who prefers blonds." Seamus chuckled. "Sorry. Muggle reference. You probably have no clue what I'm talking about."

Draco smiled. "A Marilyn Monroe fan, are you? She was quite popular among witches and wizards even when she was popular among Muggles. I'm a bit of a cult fan. Can't have Father finding out, though. He'd want to see what I've got and I'd never get any of it back. That's part of the whole reason I'm blond... My father likes them blonde... and hot." His smile grew larger.

"This is fascinating." Seamus had propped his elbows up on the table and folded his hands together, resting his chin on his knuckles, about eight inches above the last vestiges of cocoa in his mug.

"What is?"

"You, Malfoy. You're really... You're not what you seem, no matter when I see you. Hell, half of the Gryffindors would probably like you if they could see you like I am."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "And why wouldn't the other half? I'm quite likeable."

"Well..." Seamus shrugged. "Gryffindors are the hard-headed ones. We don't take well to too much change unless its practically a whole new environment, like coming to Hogwarts for the first time."

"And then?"

"And then we adjust rather well... considering."

"Considering what?"

Seamus quirked an eyebrow. "Considering the fact that we've been introduced to something entirely new to most of us! You of all people should know that most Muggle-borns go into Gryffindor, and those that don't are most often put to Hufflepuff."

Draco raised his own eyebrow. "Put to Hufflepuff? You act like Hufflepuff's such a bad place to be. Really, now. I knew Slytherin's didn't have the market on discrimination, but..."

There was a moment of silence. "You know, Malfoy... Well, you're right. Every house does it. And, it's not right. We shouldn't... we shouldn't be talking like this in the eyes of our houses, but I, for one, really don't mind. Because, it's like... Well... Bugger, I forgot what I was saying." Seamus had been keeping eye contact with Draco throughout his statement, but dropped it now. "It must not have been important."

Draco pretended not to notice. He turned to one side and examined the workmanship of one of the cabinets in the kitchen. "We're all brought up to hate. It's just that Slytherins are brought up to not mind doing it and to not really hide it. That's why Slytherins are Slytherins. They were raised that way. It is how you are raised that determines which house you get into first and foremost. There are other factors, of course, but for the most part, your parents can decide before you are born which house you'll enter. If you emphasize learning and intelligence, your children will be Ravenclaws. If it's common sense and self-preservation, Hufflepuff. Power and self-love, well, that'll be Slytherin. Courage and instinct... that's Gryffindor. More Mudbloods get into Gryffindor because that's what they're reduced to in their new environment... just a blob of courage and instinct. If anything, Gryffindor's the house where the people get put who don't really belong elsewhere. Your house's qualities are the most base, and therefore the least significantly prevalent."

Seamus grinned. "You blokes that actually think! And using phrases like 'significantly prevalent'. If all Slytherins were like you are right now, in front of me, no one would dare to dislike you guys. You really have thought about all of this, and it shows. But, I know that's not what you would have said in first year, shock-smart phrases aside. You were a prig then, Malfoy. You still show signs of it now, but you're now the kind of prig I can sort of have a giggle about, and not really care about you minding because I don't think you really would. I like you like this, Malfoy. I really do. You've got an eye for at least a little bit of the reality of our world, even if you still retain a bit of your initial Slytherin prat nature."

The mug in front of Draco was quickly being drained. Draco swirled the contents around and then looked up at Seamus once more. "A prig and a prat at the same time? Amazing. I'm shocked that I'm so talented. I really never knew."

Seamus grinned. "Surprises the fuck-all out of me."

Draco's grin wavered. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a bit stuck-up, but most people are." Seamus gulped back the last of his cocoa.

"You mean most Slytherins are, don't you Finnigan? After all, Slytherins are the ones taught to love themselves. Some of us might take it too far, but who's to say that's so wrong?" Draco's nostrils were flared.

Seamus' eyebrows narrowed. "What if *I* say it does? Does that mean bloody nothing because I'm a Gryffindor? It must not! After all, I'm just some base creature upon which all of the other houses can stand to put themselves nearer to something good as they are *then* above something awful. That's your problem, Malfoy. We Gryffindors may think that you Slytherins aren't worth much more than your weight in rusted iron, but at least we acknowledge that you are one of the four houses of Hogwarts. And as much as we'd like to step all over you, we'd rather not get our shoes in the muck. Enough of this playing nice. I thought maybe I'd see if you were different when you were away from your henchmen before I started treating you like the guy I've gone to school with and hated on principle for five years now. It's a good thing I can admit that I was wrong. And I was wrong about you, Malfoy. But everyone else was right."

Draco was seething. His chest shook with some inner hatred and his eyes narrowed and his brow lowered and his nostrils flared, and then his hand was on his mug of cocoa and he was slinging the last mouthful into Seamus' face. When he realized what he'd done, the mug fell from his hand to the table. It shattered, and rested in a pool of warm brown liquid. The handle of the mug had fallen onto the plate with the gingersnaps. "Stupid Gryff. I should have known better than to have trusted you. You invited me to sit down for this stupid snack! I must have been crazy to accept. All you Gryffindors are alike... No. You're not. You don't have quite the temper that Potter and his Weasel have. But, damn. If your parents hadn't been against it from the start, you would have made a fine addition to Slytherin. I feel stabbed in the back. I should have known! No wonder everyone says never to trust a Gryffindor. They're Slytherin without the honesty."

"Don't you dare," Seamus growled, trying to wipe his face of the hot chocolate. "No *not* tell me that I am anything like a Slytherin. You guys may be the ambitious house, but Gryffindors are the ones who will get ahead in life. We trounce people like you." He glared at Draco and leaned toward him.

The hot cocoa and gingersnaps were, by now, forgotten. Draco stood and slammed his fist down on the table. "You Gryffindors are nothing more than an insult to Hogwarts! I'm glad we've got houses. It makes it easier to determine which people aren't worth my time. You Gryffs just aren't worth it. I guess it says something about your breeding."

Seamus growled and went into action. He clawed his way across the table top and flung himself at Draco. He punched, kicked, pulled hair -- he even managed to rip Draco's blanket. When Draco heard it tear, his eyes went wide. "My *mother* made me that blanket!" He pushed Seamus off of him with one arm and punched him in the jaw with the other. "You bastard! You fucking bastard!" He grabbed Seamus by the collar of his pajama top and began pulling him up only to smash his head back down on the stone floor. Seamus was crying out in pain and trying to land a hit on Malfoy. He finally managed to grab a handful of Draco's hair and pulled him down with him.

"No one..." Seamus said, "calls me a bastard. My father's dead, but at least he's a father t be proud of. Go tell your father I said that. Tell him Seamus Finnegan doesn't think he's worth as much as soap scum for the things he's done. I'm no bastard child, but you may as well be!" He knocked Draco's skull with his own and pushed him off. But, as he tried to stand, Draco down at him and pushed him down again.

Draco grabbed at Seamus' hair. "Good to see that the concept of family pride isn't lost on you like it is on me. I love my mother, and I'll stand up for my father, but I agree with you. This still doesn't change the fact that I hate you!"

If the first hit, or, rather, anything tonight had surprised Draco, it wasn't nearly so much as when Seamus struggled out of his grasp, sat up, and kissed him as hard as he could, then pulled away.

There had been a decent amount of pain in the kiss as they had already split each other's lips, but Draco attacked with a kiss of his own. Seamus pulled him down and held him, and they suddenly weren't fighting anymore.

Draco winced as he blinked, knowing he had a black eye, but he lay down next to Seamus. "We're a pile of idiots, aren't we? Maybe the Hogwarts houses really aren't a good idea."

Seamus nodded, then winced. "Ah, damn, my jaw hurts. You've got a killer left hook."

"And your right uppercut was nothing to laugh about."

Seamus laughed anyway. "Look at us." He rolled onto his side toward Draco. "I guess there's not a house for loyalty or else we'd both be in it. But, you're right. The houses only cause fights like this. Though, I'll admit it's a good system for determining roommates and classmates. On a whole, it works, but has a few not-so-nice side effects."

Taking a deep breath, Draco smiled. "And to think; I only came here for a midnight snack."

Seamus grinned. "So did I. Neville finally learned how to do a freezing charm, but he did it in our room. He can't get it to go away, so we were camped out in the common room. But, alas, it seems our portrait guardian has a snoring problem."

Draco bit his lip and tried not to wince as he also tried not to laugh. "Something like that happened to me, too." He sat up. "Want to have more hot chocolate?"

"Is there any more?"

Draco pointed to the table where two lines of steam came off of two mugs piled high with whipped cream. "It certainly seems it."

Seamus stood up and padded over to the table, then gestured for Draco to join him. "Free ice packs, courtesy of the house elves. Come over here. I'll heal you up a bit."

"nd I for you," Draco said.

What damage they couldn't heal, they worked to cover up as best they could as they sipped down their hot chocolate. They would both be remembering this fight every time they moved for the next few days. While they were cleaning each other up, Seamus also performed a cleaning spell on himself. "That hot chocolate you dumped on me, you know," he'd reminded Draco.

Eventually, the clock chimed in at three o'clock and Seamus and Draco were reminded of the fact that they did have classes the next morning. Seamus was the first to speak. "We should probably, well, go... but first, may I see your blanket for a moment?"

Draco undraped it from his shoulders and handed it to Seamus. "Sure. What for?"

"This." Seamus held his wand over the ripped portion and concentrated, then began speaking a few magic words. Draco watched as a thread of light weaved its way into the blanket, restoring it to its original form.

Draco smiled. "Wonderful." He draped the blanket back around himself. "I think I might come back here tomorrow night for another midnight snack, even though this one was really like a one-thirty-in-the-morning snack. Would you care to join me?"

Seamus paused to consider it. "I suppose I could oblige. We'll try a new kind of cookie."

Draco seemed to consider something, then leaned in and kissed Seamus lightly, enjoying the response he received. "Tomorrow night; midnight; here."

Smiling radiantly, Seamus agreed. "See you then. And, goodnight."

"Good night, indeed," Draco replied as he watched Seamus wander off into the dark hall toward Gryffindor Tower. "Or, er, good morning?"


End file.
